"Don't you think," Maurice suggested--"of course, I'm not saying you haven't had plenty of experience--but don't you think there's a difference between a gentleman and a man who isn't a gentleman?"
"I think gentlemen are the biggest rotters of all."
"I do. Listen. You asked me just now to come away with you. You didn't ask me to marry you."
Maurice bubbled over with undelivered explanations.
"Wait. I wouldn't marry you not if you asked me. I don't want you to ask me. Only------"
"Only if I did all you wanted, I'd be giving everything--more than you'd give, even if you married a ballet girl."
"Do let me explain," Maurice begged. "You absolutely misunderstand me.... Oh, Lord, we're nearly at Hagworth Street.... I've only time to say quite baldly what I mean. Look here, if you married me you wouldn't like it. You wouldn't like meeting all my people and having to be conventional and pay calls and adapt yourself to a life that you hadn't been brought up to. I'd marry you like a shot. I don't believe in class distinctions or any of that humbug. But you'd be happier not married. Can't you see that? You'd be happier the other way.... There's your turning. There's no time for more.... Only do think over what I've said and don't misjudge me ... darling girl, good night."
Reasons, policies, plans and all the paraphernalia of expediency vanished when she from the steps of her home listened to the bells of the hansom dying away in the distance, and when he, huddled in a corner of the cab, was conscious but of the perfume of one who was lately beside him.
In her bedroom Jenny examined the brooch. Perhaps what showed more clearly than anything the reality of her love was the affection she felt for Maurice when he was away from her. She was never inclined to criticise the faults so easily forgotten in the charms which she remembered more vividly. Now, with the brooch before her, as she sat dangling her legs from the end of the bed, she recalled lovingly his eagerness to display the unfortunate opal. She remembered the brightness of his blue eyes and the vibrant attraction of his voice. He was a darling, and she had been unkind about opals. He was always a darling to her. He never jarred her nerves or probed roughly a tender mood.